


Heroes of Thra: A Story Sequence

by Geronimo23



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Flames of the Dark Crystal, Shadows of the Dark Crystal, Song of the Dark Crystal, Tides of the Dark Crystal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geronimo23/pseuds/Geronimo23
Summary: The Dark Crystal original 1982 movie has been my favorite since I was a childling. Now I have read the prequel novels and seen the TV show, and I have decided that I need to write some short stories about the beautiful world of Thra, especially the gelfling we've come to love so dearly.Set after the events at the end of the forth novel, I'm starting with the one story I absolutely needed to write. Do not worry--I have other ones in the works. I rely mostly on the novels as canon, though I have intertwined some aspect of the show. (Deet is still darkened. Seladon is who she was in the show instead of the books. Lore and Hup will make an appearance, etc. etc. Please leave comments if you're ever confused about discrepancies!)
Relationships: Amri/Naia (Dark Crystal), Brea/Kylan (Dark Crystal), Deet & Hup (Dark Crystal), Deet/Rian (Dark Crystal), Gurjin & Rian (Dark Crystal), Gurjin/Seladon (Dark Crystal), Onica/Tavra (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. About That Soft-Talk...

Naia took a long look around the feast hall of Great Smerth. It was a sight to behold, gelfling from all stretches of Thra settling, side by side, at home here in her little swamp. She had never considered it to be little before her journey, but now she knew the canopy of the apeknot trees that she had once considered the whole world was only one small corner of it.

There were many familiar faces at the table, Drenchen gelfling she had known her whole life. They were consolidating supplies, working out sleeping arrangements, tending to the wounded. A warm wave of pride washed over her to witness the hospitality of her people as they helped to welcome the many unfamiliar faces from the other gelfling clans. She could recognize a few Stonewood, though most of them had been killed when the Skeksis attacked their village the first time. There were plenty of Spriton, their nearest neighbors to the north. And of course, there were the members of the Grottan clan.

Naia allowed herself a smile of relief when her eyes fell on Maudra Argot sitting among her clan members. The old woman seemed exhausted, though her face was more peaceful than Naia felt. The Drenchen girl was grateful to have the oldest maudra here, especially when the title of “youngest maudra” had so recently been thrust upon her shoulders with more burden than she had ever anticipated bearing. She winced at the thought, and when she realized that no one needed her attention, she took the opportunity to steal away for a moment to herself.

She wandered the winding, empty halls of Great Smerth, still alive with the drum from the feast hall. She could feel the beat through her fingertips as they grazed the walls of the narrow passageways. She could also feel the fear and the pain of the life-giving tree, slowly succumbing to the effects of the darkening at its roots. It would take a long time for the illness to consume the likes of Smerth, but Naia couldn’t help but feel guilty that the tree would suffer in the meantime.

 _We’ll heal you_ , she willed her thoughts through her fingertips and into the tree. _I promise, I’ll find a way_. The warm tingling in her hands gave her relief. Smerth had heard her, and believed in her.

She didn’t know where she was wandering to until she arrived. She stood in the doorway, peering hesitantly into her mother’s chamber. After taking a deep breath, she stepped across the threshold.

 _It’s my chamber now_ , she reminded herself. The idea was still as foreign as it was painful. She hadn’t been in this room since the night she became maudra, the night her mother had sacrificed her life for the sake of her clan, to protect them and still allow urSan the Swimmer live. Looking out the window to the right, Naia’s gaze fell upon the limbs of the tree that imprisoned skekSa the Mariner. An involuntary shudder tore through her body. In an instant, it was like she was reliving that dreadful evening. She was once again stuck in the helplessness of trying to save her Mystic friend as her clan attacked urSan’s Skeksis counterpart. Every blow against their threat was harming someone to whom she owed her life. Seeing her daughter so torn, Maudra Laesid, the Bluestone Healer, had taken a final stand. In the name of what was right, she gave her life to protect not only her clan, but also the innocent, gentle urRu.

Naia hadn’t had the time to process it all yet. On the one hand, she was relieved to save urSan’s life. It wasn’t the Mystic’s fault that she and the evil sea captain Skeksis were inexorably connected. She’d saved the Drenchen girl’s life on more than one occasion, and there was no argument that protecting her had been the right thing to do. Yet the now-maudra had never stopped to think about the personal cost of doing so. Until that day, she and everyone she cared about had come away from every perilous situation alive. That night had brought the impact of the war to her doorstep, had escalated the severity of the war in her mind, and had irreparably changed her life. And she still hadn’t gotten the chance to grieve.

She swallowed, trying to dissolve the lump in her throat. Teetering, she realized she had been holding her breath. She closed her eyes. She let the breath out, then inhaled another and released it. When she opened her eyes again, she shook her head and turned away from the window.

She padded softly across the room to the hammock where her mother used to rest. On the table next to the hammock was an old, wooden pipe. The last time she’d seen her mother smoke from it had been during the hard-talk with Tavra that had started her on this whole wretched quest.

She was, in a way, glad for the journey. She had finally gotten to see Thra. She had discovered the truth about the wicked Skeksis and had helped gather enough support to fight them in an attempt to save this world, the gelfling’s home. Besides all of that, she knew well that these things were destined to happen no matter how she felt about them. Still, as she stood here, she felt so much anger and sadness for what it had taken from her. And it wasn’t even over yet…

She picked up the pipe, running her thumb over the polished intricate carvings. On either side was an image of a muski in flight. They reminded Naia of Chapyora, and her heart ached. The poor beast must miss her mother too, of course, and didn’t have the words to express it.

Naia gently set the pipe back in its place. She felt her knees begin to buckle, and she sunk into the fabric cocoon of her mother’s hammock. The lingering, earthy smell of Maudra Laesid wafted up from the fabric, enveloping her in a hug from beyond the grave. It was like the words to an old, familiar song, one she had learned before she was ever born. She leaned her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. A sob escaped her chest before she could stop it, and a single tear rolled down her right cheek. She let out a long, steady breath.

 _So much loss…_ she thought to herself. Her mother’s life was only one of the sacrifices that the gelfling had been forced to make in their Resistance against the Skeksis. Many more lives had been lost at both of the Battles at Stone-in-the-Wood, from every clan. The Grottans had even lost their home in Domrak to the Arathim, and that was before they had started lighting the fires.

As if he could sense where her thoughts were drifting off to, Naia heard soft footfalls at the chamber door. The fact that she heard them at all was really for her benefit; she knew they would have been silent if he hadn’t wanted her to hear him approach. Still, she kept her eyes closed until she heard him speak.

“…Maudra Naia?” Amri’s voice was low where he stood at the doorway.

She crinkled up her nose at such a formal greeting, a smile on the edge of her voice as she replied, “Come in, Shadowling.” She swiftly wiped all remnants of the tear from her cheek.

He walked toward her, silently this time, sitting on the floor near her feet. “How are you?” he asked. The question was simple, with no affectation, but the furrowing of his brow gave away his worry.

“Tired,” she sighed. He nodded, quietly urging her to continue. “And sad.” His ears sunk back as his eyes fell to the floor. He grunted in agreement.

When he looked up at her again, their eyes met. For Naia, looking into Amri’s eyes was like staring into an abyss, but this time the abyss was staring back. Maybe that should have been scary to her, but she had come to find comfort in the darkness. She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth, bringing a bit of warmth back to her cheeks. She pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, letting her fingertips linger there. “And…happy.”

He leaned into her touch, a soft pink hue creeping into his cheeks. “Me too.” He reached up to take her hand in his. “Which feels selfish, I have to admit.

Naia nodded, squeezing his fingers. “But you—we…all of us have sacrificed so much for this. We have lost so many things that we held dear. I don’t think it’s selfish to enjoy what few good things have come out of this whole mess.”

She thought back to her journey, to meeting Amri in Domrak. To the search for the bone firca, the encounter with the Arathim at the Grottan Sanctuary. To the Wellspring Tree and to Ha’rar, skekSa’s behemoth ship, and discovering the darkening had made it back to Sog. She never imagined when she met Amri that he would become such an important part of her life. Now, sitting hand in hand with the pale-faced apothecary, she didn’t want to think of a life without him.

After some consideration, he nodded, then smiled. “You’re right, oh wise maudra,” he teased. He kissed her palm before letting go of her hand, then rose to his feet with a groan. “I know this must be such a hard time for you, Naia. I am in awe of how you are taking things in stride.” He took a step toward the door. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, but I’ll leave you alo—”

“Wait!” she said, quickly taking his hand again. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. She wasn’t ready to rejoin the calamity downstairs yet, either. What she actually wanted, what she _needed_ , was to stay here—with him—for a while longer. For fear of seeming too desperate, she bit her lip, then took a breath. “Please…stay with me.” It was more pleading than she would have liked, but he didn’t react to the uncharacteristic neediness.

“Of course,” he whispered to her without hesitation. She was relieved, and the expression on his face told her that he was, too. She got the feeling he hadn’t really wanted to leave. She pulled him into the hammock with her, awkward limbs and elbows everywhere as they tried to settle into a seat that was never really meant for two. They giggled and blushed together as they finally found a comfortable position. Her legs were laid across his lap, his arm around her back, her nose just barely grazing his left cheek. He turned so that he could see her.

“So,” he continued softly, “how does it feel to be home?”

The question caught her off guard. She was still coming to terms with her mother’s passing and her sudden ascension to the seat of the maudra, but she was glad to be home with her father and sisters. She was worried about Gurjin, but she could feel deep down that he was alright for now. He and Rian were clever, had experience in the Lords’ Castle, and knew the woods well. If anyone could figure out how to get into the castle to heal the Crystal of Truth, it would be the two of them. She was concerned about Kylan, though she trusted he would be okay with Tavra and Onica by his side. She wondered about the other group of gelfling that had retreated to the Wellspring, and hoped they were doing okay. And she wished that she had more energy to devote to caring about all of those issues, but she didn’t. She had to devote her energies to all of these new gelfling in her home whom she felt responsible for. Even if she wasn’t the All-Maudra, she was the host to the many wayward souls that had lost their homes and ways of life to the Resistance, and found their way to Smerth. Less than a year ago, she had no wings and was being scolded like a childling for her hot temper. Now she was responsible for helping lead her entire race in a war against the Skeksis.

“It’s overwhelming,” she answered finally. “And…different.”

He cocked his ear. “Different? Because of the new clan members, or the darkening?”

She shook her head. “I mean, all of those things certainly have changed. But that’s not it. I think… _I’ve_ changed. This is my home, it’s where I grew up. It’s all so familiar, and yet it’s foreign.” She took a moment to process how she felt, then continued, “But that’s not it either. This all…is exactly where it belongs. Sog is the same swamp it’s ever been, it’s not foreign. But I’ve become a foreigner.”

Amri nodded as though he understood her ramblings, and she snorted a small laugh. “Don’t pretend like that makes sense, Shadowling. I know I sound as lucid as Mother Aughra herself.”

His face was serious, though his tone was still playful. “Mother Aughra is wise even when she doesn’t make sense, oh Blue Flame Maudra. And so are you.” He paused, then said, “When I heard that the Arathim had taken Domrak, I was…sad, and worried. Those were my people, that was my home. My whole life until a few months ago happened in or right outside of those caves. And yet…” he looked into her eyes. “I expected to be devastated. I wanted so badly to help them, and when I realized that I couldn’t, I imagined the guilt would tear me up. It never did. I thought maybe apathy was my way of coping with things that I can’t control, but I don’t think that anymore.”

“Then what do you think it is, oh Keeper of Secrets?” she teased him.

“Feeling at home isn’t about where you grew up, or where you live,” he took her hand, never breaking eye contact. “It’s about being with who you love.” His cheeks quickly shifted from a rosy pink to a crimson red. “I have loved you all over Thra and back, Naia. If I have learned anything, it’s that no matter how many villages the Skeksis destroy…as long as I am with you, I will always be at home.”

She had never been a very talkative gelfling, but his words had left her utterly speechless. She was always better with action than with words, so she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. They slipped easily into the dreamfast.

First, he saw a tiny Naia riding on Chapyora’s back with Gurjin, their family standing nearby. They were young; Eliona was a toddler, hanging around her father’s neck, and Laesid was pregnant with Pemma. Both twins had bolas in their hands, poised to strike at the next animal that fluttered past, each trying to prove themselves to be a better hunter. _Ah, the sibling rivalry started early,_ he chided through the dream.

She saw Amri in the Tomb of Relics listening to urLii blabber on and on about plant remedies and magical mixtures. She could tell he was only half listening as he picked through herbs, matching their pictures to the books and writing down his own mixtures to try later. _No wonder you always have so many concoctions on hand,_ she thought to him. _You’ve been making them long enough!_

He saw the day Gurjin was taken as a guard to the Castle of the Crystal, felt Naia’s sorrow of losing her brother and the jealousy of not getting to leave the swamp with him.

She saw the first night Amri snuck out of the cave to pick ingredients in the moonlight, felt the adrenaline of breaking the rules, the awe of seeing the beauty of the outside world, the longing to be able to go up to the surface whenever he wanted.

He saw what it was like for her to heal Olyeka-Staba in the Dark Wood, felt how terrified and delighted she was to discover she could heal non-gelfling beings.

She saw herself as he followed her, Tavra, and Kylan through the Caves of Grot, long before they’d ever seen him. _I knew I’d heard you there, you little sneak!_ she exclaimed into the dream.

 _Perhaps, but you didn’t_ see _me. I don’t understand why you Daylighters rely so heavily on your eyes when they’re so weak, anyways._ She giggled into the kiss at his joke, and the dreamfast started to fade. Amri reached up to cup her cheek in his hand, pulling her back to him.

They shared the memory of when they’d saved Oszah-Staba, the Wellspring Tree, this time from swapped perspectives. She had breathed for the both of them in the water, since he didn’t have gills, but she couldn’t see in the dark the way he could. He had to help her find the living roots beneath the petrified ones. When he had to return to the surface in order to convince the Dousan to help her heal the tree by joining Kylan in the cave, the last breath-giving kiss before he left her had felt warmer than all the rest. She confirmed that she was infatuated with his bravery, and knowing she may never see him again, she had leaned into the kiss before letting him go. _Aha! So was that our first real kiss, then?_ he asked her.

 _No,_ she replied softly. _I like this one better._

They both pulled away, breathless and flushed. She leaned her head into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her.

She sighed. “Well, you make some convincing soft-talk…I’m glad we saved it for later.” He chuckled. Time seemed to stand still. “Amri?”

“Yes?” he asked tenderly.

She lifted her head again and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too.”

He blushed, then smiled. “Well good, or what we just did would have been awkward for the both of us.”

She laughed and gave him a shove. He gave one of her dreadlocks a mischevious tug. She leaned back in the chair and let her eyes wander around the room. Her gaze fell upon the pipe again, and she was reminded of the memories she shared with Amri in the dreamfast. She’d shown him Chapyora, and she’d shown him her capacity to heal those other than gelfling. Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Hey, will you come with me?” she asked, rising to her feet.

“Of course,” he stood up and stretched beside her. “What are we doing?”

She walked over to the window and beckoned for him to follow. “You’ll see when we get there. Come on.” When he reached the window, she wrapped her arms around him. “Ready?”

Before he could answer, she jumped from the window, gliding them a short distance away, to a walkway in the trees just slightly above the swamp’s surface. They walked for a few minutes until they came to a hollowed-out den in the roots of an old, fallen apeknot tree. He could see inside clearly. There was a puddle of muskies huddled up together, sleeping. He realized this must be where muskies slept when they were too big to stay with their masters inside Smerth. Off to one side of the den was a large, forlorn animal. The late maudra’s pet would not join the rest of her pack.

“Chapyora,” Naia whispered. The beast raised her head a bit. Seeing the cloak on the girl’s back, she was excited at first, then sad again when she smelled that it was not Laesid who had come to see her. Naia approached. “Hey girl, sweet girl. How are you holding up?” Chapyora was timid to the touch, but reluctantly let Naia nuzzle her face. Slowly, gently, Naia started a dreamfast with the heartbroken muski.

She showed the beast her memories of riding on her back with her mother, of all the love and the joy. She reminded her of the impressive hunts the muski had brought home, and how pleased her master had been. She showed her Laesid’s sacrifice through her own eyes, and shared her pain with the grieving animal. _I know that you are hurting, and I am here because I want you to know you are not alone._ The beast let out a low, mournful groan. Naia could feel her pain and sadness. She saw flashes of Laesid’s career as a warrior, before her mother was maudra, before she and Gurjin were ever born. She saw the warm and tender days spent riding through the swamp on a hunt, just beast and master. She saw the endless days after Laesid’s death where Chapyora waited for her to return, even though she knew it could not happen. Naia shed a tear for the pain, relating all too well. When she pulled away, the muski licked her cheek.

“You must be so lonely without mother. What if I take you for a ride every now and again, would you like that?” The muski bellowed in agreement. The girl laughed. “Then you and I will ride tomorrow afternoon.” She stroked the animals face gently.

“You don’t have to be alone,” she gestured toward the pile of muskies slumbering away in the corner. The animal lowered her head as she slithered over and took a spot on the edge of the pile. She chirped back at Naia. “Tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

When she returned to Amri’s side, he was smiling ear to ear. He threw his arm around her neck as they walked back toward Great Smerth.

“And what are you so delighted about, Shadowling?” she nudged his ribs.

He reached up and smushed her face to his, landing a big mushy kiss on her temple. “Well, not long ago, I was a lonely gelfling from a forgotten clan who resented never leaving my cave. Now I’ve seen most of Thra, and my girlfriend is the Blue Flame Maudra, who recently told me she’s in love with me.” Before she could tease him about too much soft-talk, he continued, “I must be a pretty cool guy, I guess.”

She scoffed at him. She agreed, though she’d never admit it out loud, especially not to him. Instead, she smirked at him, and said, “We’ll see how cool you are tomorrow when I teach you how to ride a muski.” With that, she glided up into the branches, laughing, jumping from tree to tree on her way back to the Glenfoot. He ran along the pathways below her, trying to keep up as he laughed right along with her.


	2. Stoking the Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, RoyalMelody fans. This is my headcanon for Kylan and Brea's meet-cute, since they don't officially meet in the books!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going off of book canon: Brea did not end up at the Circle of the Suns with Rian and Deet, but in fact was stuck in Ha'rar with the other Vapra after her mother's murder. When Tavra made her announcement at the Waystar grove, the Vapra had to go into hiding from the Skeksis. Brea was the one who was finally able to sway Seladon back to the right path so that their clan could heed Rian's call and travel to the Second Battle at Stone-in-the-Wood. She and Seladon had briefly met with Tavra after the battle, long enough to discuss what had happened to Tavra's body and to decide what the three of them would do next. That should give you the context for this chapter!

Kylan didn't realize how starving he was. They had just sat down for lunch, and he was already halfway through his meal. It's not like he had a huge serving or anything—just a bowl of soup and some berries—but he still usually took his time when eating. He was grateful that Onica had made anything at all, since mealtime was usually his responsibility and he had completely lost track of the time. It was afternoon; the largest brother had already passed its zenith. He'd been toiling away all day, dream-etching this, rereading that, looking through the book Aughra had given him. Still, even now, all he could think about was getting back to work.

“So,” Tavra broke the silence, “How long do you think it will take you to finish recording the rest of the prophecy?”

“I'm not sure,” Kylan shrugged, mouth half-full of berries. He looked down at his notebook where it lay open next to him, and then over to many expanses of stone where the prophecy had burst forth just days ago. “I'd say at least a few more days, maybe a week.”

“A _week_?!” the tiny voice exclaimed. “We’ve already been here for three days, Kylan. How long does it take to dream-etch some words and a few pictures?”

Onica hushed the small spider on her shoulder. “You should know that we can’t rush these things. If the Skeksis see this and destroy it, his journal will be the only record we have left.” The Sifan girl looked into the distance, at nothing…at everything. At whatever she could see that the rest of them couldn’t. Her mind was still thousands of miles away as she finished her thought, “He needs to get this right, Tavra. It is important to the fate of our people.”

“I know,” the little blue arachnid sighed. “I’m just…wary. The longer we’re here, the higher the risk that the Skeksis will return. What if they do want to destroy the prophecy, and they all show up here? Gelfling from all seven clans barely defeated them the first time, how are two-and-half gelfling going to hold them off?”

The sea-faring symbol-reader smirked as Tavra crawled into her hand. “Half a gelfling?” she questioned, bemused.

“You know what I mean,” the Vapran hissed at her. She was still bitter about her spider body, even if she had come a long way in accepting it. She let out a little squeak when her girlfriend placed a gentle kiss on her crystalline abdomen.

“Well,” Kylan groaned as he rose to his feet again. He had inhaled the rest of his meal during the discussion. “The sooner I get back to work, the faster it will go.”

He again walked over to the wall at the back of what was once Maudra Fara’s chambers to find where he’d last left off. A lot of the symbols on the wall were unfamiliar to him, but reminded him of some of the things he’d seen in urVa’s shelter in the woods, and some of what he’d seen in the Tomb of Relics with urLii. How he wished one of them was around now so that he could ask them questions. _Though I’d probably get a riddle instead of the answers I need…_ he thought to himself.

“Kylan,” Onica called from the other side of the clearing, “We’re going to check the perimeter. Be back soon!”

He waved them off with a grunt. Tavra was hypervigilant, making sure to walk the perimeter of the Stonewood village every few hours, though nothing had changed since all the other gelfling had cleared out of the area. Onica, who was functioning as the gelfling body for the both of them, obviously went with her. He was secretly glad when they would leave, as it meant that he could work free from the undeniable tension of Tavra’s impatience, or the whispered sweet talk between the two girls. They’d been away from each other for a while even before the Resistance had started and had been catching up now that there was a lull in the action, but he was getting a little fed up playing the third wheel everywhere he went. On top of the slight pangs of loneliness he would try to push aside, he also felt jealous, not just of their relationship, but of the fact that they were using this time to regroup. All of the gelfling were. All except Kylan, who was desperately trying to write down and interpret all of the prophecy on his own before it was too late for them to do so. Onica was helping where she could, but the Sifa understood symbols and prophecy in way that gelfling of the other clans weren’t able to comprehend, because they had been raised on it. He needed have this information recorded in a way that anyone who found it could read and understand, in case he and Onica weren’t around to explain it later. And it didn’t help to have the warrior breathing down his neck about getting it done.

His guardians had been gone for about twenty minutes when he heard a rustling in the bushes to his left. _That’s odd…they set out in the other direction on patrol. They shouldn’t be back yet._ He heard the noise again, and his blood ran cold. He closed his journal and tucked it safely behind a rock. With his hand on the hilt of the dagger that Rian had gifted him, he called out, “Onica? …Tavra?” He heard more rustling, this time behind him, and some running footsteps. He turned on his heels. “H-hello? Who’s there?!” He was trying to keep himself from sounding terrified as panic coursed through his veins. _You’re being ridiculous,_ he tried to rationalize to himself, _It’s probably just a fizzgig or something._ He saw a gelfling-sized shape dash behind one of the Stonewood houses, a flash of silver hair. He gasped. Certainly not Onica. It almost looked like... _But that’s impossible,_ he shook his head. “Who are you? Show yourself at once!” In a surge of courage, he ran over to where the stranger had hidden, but they were gone when he turned the corner. He backed away slowly. He felt a pair of warm hands on his back. The stranger gave a little squeak as he backed into her.

He turned around with a scream, drawing his dagger above his head reflexively in a bid to protect himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” she threw her hands in front of her face as she fell backwards to the ground.

“Bu—wha—Tavra?” Kylan lowered his dagger. This girl was smaller than Tavra. Younger. “No, wait. You’re the other princess, right? Not the new All-Maudra, but the youngest.” He helped her to her feet.

She didn’t have time to answer before Onica was at Kylan’s side with her sword drawn. “I heard you scream! What’s th—Brea?!” Kylan could hear both Onica and Tavra’s voices speaking through the red-haired gelfling. It still gave him the shivers to think about how their Vapran friend was able to possess them with a single bite. The arachnid body was something they were all still getting used to, in some ways.

“Hi Onica…Tavra…” the princess lowered her eyes to the ground.

“What in Thra’s name are you doing here?” Tavra had disconnected from her lover’s neck and crawled back onto her shoulder. “You are supposed to be in Cera Na with Seladon. We all talked about this!”

Brea sighed. “I know, but—”

Tavra cut her sister off. “Can you not just do what is asked of you for _once_? Defying mother’s banal chores to scurry off to the library was one thing, but this is a war, Brea! This is _important_!”

“I know it’s important!” the young girl chimed in. “That’s why—” she tried to continue, but Tavra was not having it.

“That’s why you’re acting like a childling?” Tavra may have been smaller in stature, but her words were no less hard-hitting. In fact, whatever she now lacked in physical presence, she was making up for in the severity of her tone. Kylan winced. He felt bad for the girl, but in a way, he was just grateful not to be on the other end of the warrior’s irritation for once. “This isn’t one of your silly riddles. This isn’t a fairytale in one of your books! This is real life, _real_ danger. It’s time for you to grow up!”

The young Silverling—whose gaze had been cast to the ground through the entirety of this lecture so far—straightened up, glaring directly at the blue spec on Onica’s shoulder. He noticed a gleam flash across her hazel eyes, like a fire come to life. “I have grown up plenty in these past few unum, Tavra, but you wouldn’t know a thing about that. You weren’t there when Mother was killed, but _I_ was. You didn’t stick around to rescue our people after your announcement at the Waystar grove, so _I_ had to do it. You, the courageous royal warrior of the Vapran Guard, were not there to fortify our sister as the new All-Maudra and lead our clan into battle when it was time, so _I_ did! And I did it even after all that time I spent convinced that you were _dead_!” Tears began to fall down her cheeks, quick and hot and angry. “You have no idea what I have done, who I have become. Yet I didn’t even have a say in where I was going to end up in all of this. You and Seladon decided for me, all on your own, just like people always decide for me. How can prove that I’ve grown up if you still insist on treating me like a childling?”

Kylan’s heart broke. Until now, he’d only theoretically understood that countless other gelfling had undergone great horrors since the truth about the Skeksis had come to light. Having been dealt a rough lot themselves, it seemed like all the suffering was happening to him and those he loved. Now, visceral proof of those other stories was standing in front of him. All three of the late Mayrin’s daughters had made great sacrifices for the Resistance already, not the least of which was their mother’s life. Brea was the youngest of them all, but he could tell that she was right: her recent experience had matured her as much as it had battered her. He wished he could comfort her as they all stewed in the tension of her words.

“What’s done is done,” Onica’s voice gently broached the silence. “You can’t change what has happened, only what will happen next.” She reached out to grab Brea’s hand, bridging the gap for Tavra to connect with her sister.

The sparkling blue body scurried onto the sleeve of the lavender robes. Tavra’s tone was softer now. Sad. “I’m sorry, Brea. I truly am. You’re right, I don’t know what you’ve been through. I’ve been focused on getting us through what we’re dealing with right now and putting off the rest for later. But the truth is, I’m not even sure if there will be a later…” Kylan didn’t know if Tavra could still cry tears, but it sounded like she would be if it were possible. There was a vulnerability to her words that he wasn’t used to. “I can’t make up for the lost time. But if I could have been there, I would have. You should know that.”

“I do know that,” Brea tried to choke back a sob. “When I heard your message at the Waystar grove, I knew it. I was so driven by the hope that I might see you again, I knew I had to do whatever I could to make sure that I did. I thought that’s what you would do.”

“No, Brea. That’s what _you_ would do. That’s what you _did_!” A sense of pride seeped into the older sister’s voice. “And now, here I am. Here _we_ are.”

A lopsided smirk broke the ruddy pall of the young girl’s face with a half-hearted chuckle. “I suppose we are. I guess I just never expected…” She held her arm up, twisting it in the light as the falling sunbeams sparkled across Tavra’s back. The spider descended from a fine thread, spinning ever so slightly. For the effect, Kylan imagined.

“Yes, well, you can thank him for that,” the tiny Vapran gestured toward the Spriton boy. He blushed and looked away. It’s not like it was something he had intended to do. “I suppose we both have stories to tell each other. So why don’t you start? Tell us: why didn’t you go to Cera Na, and why were you sneaking around so that you nearly gave Kylan a heart attack?”

“Because I think I can help with the prophecy.” The fire gone out of her for now, she was a small and fragile-looking silver-haired beauty. Kylan let himself really observe her for the first time. Her robes were tattered and dirty from whatever journeys she had been on these past weeks, but they were still nicer than anything he had worn in his life. Her hair was long, to the bottom of her torso, and she kept it pulled back in intricate braids. Her eyes were a bright green-hazel with gold flecks at the centers.

All his life, he had assumed the daughters of the All-Maudra would be the most beautiful gelfling in Thra. That assumption was first confirmed for him when he met Tavra. Though he’d only ever seen her as a soldier, he could imagine how once she was cleaned up for court, she would have been lovely. Still, his imagination hadn’t prepared him for the striking beauty of her little sister, even covered in mud and bruises. His face grew hot as he realized he was staring, and he tried to avert his eyes. He hoped no one else had noticed.

Brea shuffled over to some bushes and rummaged around until she pulled out a canvas sack. It wasn’t very big, but it looked heavy, with a bed roll attached to the front that made it an unwieldy burden. “I brought these,” she said as she pulled a few notebooks out of the bag. She sat down on the ground and opened one.

He could see from the opening in the sack that there were still a couple more books inside of it. His jaw nearly hit the ground. “Where did you get all of these?” he asked in awe. He had already grabbed one from her hand and was thumbing through it.

“They’re mine,” she stated proudly, though it wasn't boastful. “I’ve been keeping these journals for the past few years. Every time I visit the library, I write down what I’ve learned, what I’ve read.”

Excitement built within him with every page he turned. Bits of history and laws he’d never had access to, songs he’d never heard. Most importantly, the symbols. Page after page of different symbols important to the gelfling. Some of them he’d never seen before, others were the images he couldn’t recognize from the wall. “This is…amazing! This is…” he was at a loss for words. He turned to Brea. He wanted to hug her, but he felt he didn’t know her well enough yet. Instead, he bowed his head to her as he said, “This is invaluable. The information here is going to help me immensely with my work, thank you!”

“Please let me help you!” she squeaked. Her eyes grew wide as a rosy hue washed over her cheeks. “I-I’ve been deciphering some of it already, though there are some things I don’t completely understand. I keep going through the journals, but so far I haven’t been able to figure it all out…” she began thumbing through another one of the notebooks.

“Oh, brother…” Tavra sighed, looking between the two gelfling, completely transfixed by their research. Onica stifled a giggle. “This is all very well and good, Brea. I’m glad your days flitting off on a whim are finally proving to be worth more than a bit of Mother’s scorn, but you still haven’t answered my question.” The young gelfling girl stopped reading and looked up, one ear cocked in confusion. “Why were you skulking around and frightening Kylan?”

“Oh!” She turned to him, an apologetic expression on her face. She reached out and patted his forearm awkwardly. “I truly am so sorry I scared you, I didn’t mean to.” She started looking through her book again but continued to answer her sister’s question. “I was worried that if I asked to stay, you and Seladon would both tell me no because it’s too dangerous. I figured if I didn’t make a fuss, no one would notice if I just…stayed behind.”

Kylan, who was already paging through his second notebook, chuckled. “Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, eh?” He glanced up from the page briefly, enough to catch her expression.

She faltered on her page-flipping for a moment as she looked back at him. Her cheeks were pink again, and she smiled. “Yes, exactly. So, I tried to stay hidden long enough that I knew you wouldn’t send me after Seladon. I figured maybe if I could decipher something important before I revealed myself, you would be less upset with me.”

“But if you were trying to hide from us, how did you end up scaring Kylan?” Onica asked.

“I was more startled than afraid, for the record,” he tried to defend himself, but it was like the gelfling women hadn’t even heard him.

“Oh, I waited for you two to leave so that I could steal some of your food,” she answered nonchalantly. “That’s how I’ve been eating since everyone else left...I couldn’t fit any food rations in my bag.”

The deadpan of Tavra’s response implied that this was not an unexpected occurrence, but it was one that she would never be able to wrap her mind around. “Because of the books.” 

“Mhm, precisely.” Brea started to look in the cover of each book, reordering and stacking them according to some personal form of organization. “I always wait for you two to go on patrol, since Tavra’s senses were frankly too good to sneak past even as a gelfling, and I was afraid you both might stab me first and ask questions later. Kylan is usually absorbed in his work during the day, so I use that to my advantage. The only reason he heard me today was because a wild fizzgig tried to take some of the berries I stole from your sack, and it blew my cover.”

“If you’ve been around enough to decipher some of the prophecy, then how have I not seen you? I spend all day reading the wall myself. I know I’m a little preoccupied, but I’m sure I’d notice someone sneaking around beside me,” he was incredulous.

She smirked at him, and there was that flash of fire in her eyes again. Then she was just…gone. He heard the faint flutter of wings, then felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. He jolted when he turned to see Brea standing above him. “Your _vliyaya_ may be able to dream-etch stories into walls—” she raised her hand up and wiggled her fingers. She vanished quickly, then returned. “—but mine has its practical purposes, too.”

He stared at her for a moment. He knew there were many ways to use one’s _vliyaya_. His best friend, Blue Flame Naia, was one of the best healers in all of Thra, just as her mother had been. That was a Drenchen trick. He was able to dream-stitch stories, and even souls as they’d learned in Tavra’s case. That was an old tradition of his Spriton heritage. And apparently, as he was just discovering, some Vapran gelfling could make themselves invisible. “Err--oh,” he managed at last. It never ceased to amaze him how little he knew about other clans.

“Well, now that this is all out on the table, I suppose we should think about preparing for dinner?” Onica chimed in. “We have one more mouth we now know we’re feeding, after all.”

He stood, feeling guilty again that he hadn’t even thought about their meal. It had been his duty for so long, and he was just letting it fall by the wayside. “Yes, of course. I’ll get started on it right now.”

“Not a chance, Song Teller,” Tavra said, though she seemed to be in a better mood now than she had been these past few days. “The more breaks you take from that wall, the longer we’re sitting out here like chrysalised unamoths ripe for the plucking. Now that you have these journals, you two should get to work on the prophecy. Onica and I will finish our patrol and figure out dinner as we go.”

He nodded as the couple took off again, leaving him alone with the princess for the first time. “Uhh—so we should…um, you can…” he stumbled over his words as he turned to face her. Her eyes were eagerly fixed on him. He cleared his throat. “You said you’ve deciphered some of the prophecy already. Show me what it says.”

She led him down to the other end of the wall. “Here, right here. These are the three brothers, you can see by the triangle,” she pointed her finger around the corners of the shape. “But they’re on top of one another, in the center. And then down here,” she glided her finger down to the shapes below the image of the suns. “This must be the Crystal of Truth. Those are Skeksis Lords standing around it, but I have no idea what that is,” she pointed to a hulking, four-armed figure with an elongated neck.

“The Mystics! It’s the next Great Conjunction!” he exclaimed.

“Mystics?” she asked, enraptured by his enthusiasm. “What is the Great Conjunction? It sounds important!”

For a moment, he was shocked. She was so well educated about a great many things; he had expected her to know all of this already. It took him a moment to remember that up until a few unum ago, he hadn’t known anything about this, either. Of course she wouldn’t have found this information in a Skeksis-approved library in Ha’rar. He shook his head and held out his hand. “I don’t know if I can explain it all in words, let me just show you.”

Her eyes grew wide for a moment as she hesitated, then touched her fingers to his. The connection was instantaneous.

It was a whirlwind of information. He new that Tavra was right, that they couldn’t waste any time while working on this project, so he gave her a crash course in the history of the Skeksis and the Mystics, hoping that her prowess as a scholar would allow her to catch it all.

He brought her first to the Archer’s hovel in the Dark Wood, after he and Naia had encountered urVa and they first started unraveling the secrets of the Mystics, of the Skeksis. He showed her their first meeting with Aughra and her riddling madness. He remembered the Tomb of Relics where they found urLii, and then the Grottan sanctuary with skekLi, how their two urRu friends had kept the Skeksis in place so that he and Naia could escape to safety. He showed her the battle at Great Smerth, the hopelessness of fighting skekSa while trying to save urSan. He brought her to their shared memory of skekMal’s death, him being pierced by an invisible arrow before bursting into flames, then brought her immediately back to the memory of urVa showing them how he shot his bow. The dreamfast lasted mere minutes before it ended with a gasp as she pulled away.

“The Skeksis! The…Mystics! Th-they’re…” she couldn’t finish the sentence, but it was enough to assure him that she’d understood his quick lesson.

“Look here,” he pulled her back toward the beginning of the prophecy. “This is where it began. The last Great Conjunction. See? The same symbol with the triangle. This here is one being: Skeksis and Mystic together. Then the one became two at the Great Conjunction, and in their rage, a Skeksis cracked the Crystal. That’s where the shard comes from,” he pointed to all the phases of the story, up to the wounded Crystal and its missing piece. “This is what I’ve been working on these past three days. The three brothers coming together, that’s the Great Conjunction.”

She pursed her lips. “But what happens, then? When the three brothers align?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure, unfortunately.”

Brea stared at the wall with curiosity and dismay. Suddenly, Kylan felt a drop of water on his head. He hadn’t even noticed the storm rolling in. He looked out to the west over the trees and saw a wall of water coming their way. They were about to be hit by a squall. He looked down and around them, realizing his book from Aughra, his journal, and all of her notebooks were scattered around the clearing.

“We should find cover, and fast,” he said as he started gathering up their books into Brea’s bag. She tried to pick it up, but he waved her off. “I’ve got it, let’s go!” he said as they began to run. The bag was quite heavy and was slowing him down. He wished he could throw it on his back, but he had wrapped his arms around it to shield the bag with his body in case they didn’t make it to their shelter on time. It was a good thing he had, too, as the rain hit them before they made it under cover. They were only in the rain for a few seconds, but both of them were soaked. However, the books were relatively safe.

“Oh dear…” she muttered to herself as she rung out her sopping plaits of hair at the doorway of the shelter.

“Well, that was refreshing,” Kylan scoffed sarcastically as he flicked off his cloak and shook the water from his own hair. He noticed the little fire that they kept burning in their lean-to had all but burned out, as it often did during the day. Using some of the dry lumber they kept off to the side, he nursed the coals back to a steady, warm flame. Then he laid out some of the books that had gotten wet at the edges to dry nearby.

She had taken her bed roll from the bag and unraveled it, propping it up so that the wet spots were facing the fire. The two of them sat on the ground across from each other in silence as she stared into the flame. Finally, she spoke up. “The means probably weren’t ideal, but I’m glad I could join you guys before this storm hit,” she let out a demure laugh, though there was a touch of sadness in her far away expression. “I’ve been sleeping in the trees.”

“That must be different from home,” he gave her a small smile in return. He knew it was an understatement. She had, after all, lived in one of the greatest palaces in the land, second only to the Crystal Castle.

“Yes, quite,” she gave a genuine giggle this time, though it was still quiet. “But even home is different these days…” She looked up at him and their eyes met. He pulled his knees into his chest to calm the flutters that he felt there. “I um…I’m really sorry, again. For…startling you earlier.”

He shook his head, “Ehh, no harm came of it. In fact, I think you may have brightened Tavra’s mood, so I should really thank you, if anything.”

She smiled back at him, then blushed. “You uh—” she looked away from him as she bit her lip, then turned her gaze back to his. She looked nervous. “You’re the famous song teller, right? The one who dream-stitched the pink petals?” He nodded slowly. Her blush deepened. “I always hoped I would get to meet you. Now I feel embarrassed.”

He looked at her wide-eyed. “Why?”

“Everyone always looks to the warriors for motivation and courage, like Tavra. They expect the leaders to be brave in times of crisis, like my mother or Seladon. Yet I think that those petals were the single bravest act of this Resistance so far.” She shifted her eyes back to the fire, and he could sense her growing discomfort at her confession. “You gave us the truth, as a _song teller_. Not a soldier, not the All-Maudra. Everyone has always told me that I need to stop burying my head in stories and focus on more important things. But your stories _are_ important. And what you’re doing now, again…it might be the most important part of this whole rebellion.”

It was his turn to blush. He had to admit, the validation was nice. He spent so much of his time wondering how he was supposed to fit into the fate of this world. He had struggled to find his purpose in the beginning, but now he was comfortable with what he contributed to the Resistance. He was even proud of it. Still, hearing someone else say that they thought he was important was reassuring, and extremely flattering. “I—don’t know what to say. Thank you. That means…a lot.” She still wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he scooched around the fire to be closer to her. “Though I still don’t understand why you’re embarrassed.”

“Because you’re…” she shook her head when she couldn’t find the words. “You’ve done so much, seen so much. All of these things you know, you’ve learned by travelling the world! The amazing places you showed me earlier…” She sighed. “Everything I’ve learned, I’ve read about while hidden away in a dark corner somewhere. When I heard that there was a song teller as a leader of the Resistance, it proved to me that any kind of person can be brave, even someone who spends their life thinking about stories. But now…I don’t know if I can ever be as brave as you.” She curled in on herself then, burying her face in her hands.

For perhaps the first time all day, he realized how young she was. She was at least two or three trine younger than him, and he was just barely considered grown. Even now, he imagined that if he had never set off on this adventure with Naia, he may still have been considered a childling until he would have been forced to fight at the Second Battle at Stone-in-the-Wood. He’s not sure how he would have handled himself if all this had happened two or three trine ago. He reached out to pull her hand away from her face.

“Hey,” he soothed, “hey now. Brea, look at me.” She did, relinquishing her hand to him as she used the other to wipe some tears that were forming in her eyes. “If I recall, you gave an excellent speech earlier listing all of the brave things you have already done. And besides the things you listed, in that very moment you were talking back to your sister, which is something even I’m not courageous enough to do most days,” he gave her hand a light squeeze with the joke. She stifled a smile, and the flutter revisited his stomach. He tried not to let her see his reaction.

She shifted her hand in his so that their fingers were laced together. He realized he was holding his breath as he started to get lightheaded. He tried to steady himself with deep breaths in and out. “You know, I hadn’t…I’ve never dreamfasted with a boy before. I mean, until today.”

Her statement sobered him up a little, sheerly from the surprise. “Never? In your whole life?”

She shook her head. “Only my mother, or my sisters. Even all of the servants in our private quarters were women. And we weren’t supposed to become too friendly with them, so dreamfasting would have been inappropriate, anyways.” She seemed disapproving of those expectations, though resigned to them. “The only men I ever saw were guards or people who came to court, and dreamfasting with them would have _certainly_ been inappropriate.”

He usually would have hesitated to ask her any personal questions, but the intimacy of the moment got the better of him. “What about your father?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know him. None of us know our fathers.” He assumed she was talking about all of her sisters. “Mother always said that romantic relationships are a distraction from our duties, especially in her position as the All-Maudra. That’s why she didn’t keep the company of men around.”

That concept was so wildly foreign to him that he just nodded. He didn’t know what to say, so he back peddled on their conversation. “I feel a little bad. Back there, it was...that was a rather haphazard dreamfast. I feel like it should have been more special, or something. I didn’t want to waste too much time, but I hope I didn’t give you a bad impression as a song teller.”

“Not at all!” she beamed. “It was exciting, like a riddle. Or a bunch of little riddles, all at once. Either way, I understood exactly what you were showing me. Although…” She looked over her shoulder, out the door and into the storm. It was still coming down in sheets, and the suns were setting now. They wouldn’t be getting any more work done today. “We seem to have plenty of time now.”

This time when the fire flashed across her eyes, he felt a surge of something, too. Excitement? Nervousness? Curiosity? “Will you show me the library, then?” The corners of his consciousness shivered, and he knew what her answer was as a great wooden staircase appeared before him.

 _So,_ she thought to him, _where do you want to go?_

 _I wouldn’t even know where to begin!_ he thought back. Even if she had told him it would be this grand, he wouldn’t have believed her without seeing it for himself.

It felt like his feet had lifted off the ground as they rushed down a corridor to their right. He realized she, and therefore he, was flying. _I’ve been here so many times, I’ll just show you everything._ She showed him aisles of gelfling history, dating back hundreds of trine. She showed him science, and political records. They ventured into a part of library that was dedicated to knowledge of the other clans. They zoomed down that row, flipping through books with symbols and traditions that he had never even imagined before.

 _We should find your notes from this section when we get to work tomorrow, it could be useful,_ he noted.

She didn’t acknowledge what he'd said, though he knew that she’d heard him. She showed him huge tomes about astronomy, about the brothers, and the sisters, and the stars. More important information to help them with their responsibilities. She was being so pragmatic even here, but he felt like she was holding something back from him.

 _There is so much here,_ he acknowledged, _but surely you have a favorite section. Something you do for fun?_ The whole image shivered and they were zipping through the air again. Not inside the library this time, but right outside of it, and then through a back window into an abandoned corridor. Time slowed down as they looked at the shelves in this dark recess of the library. Reading the titles, Kylan realized that they were storybooks, full of songs.

 _Mother says songs are frivolous for a princess,_ Brea’s voice came through to him, dripping with mischief. _I could almost get away with being holed up in the library if I was at least studying history, or laws. She would humor me if I was focusing on subjects befitting a princess, but songs? No. I had to sneak in so that the librarian couldn’t see me._

He thought back to the conversation she had had with her sister earlier, and pieces of her life started to fall into place. As privileged as she might have been, she still lived under the strict hand of fate, and it held her back from doing what she truly wanted. _Show me your favorite song._

 _No!_ she squeaked even in the dreamspace. _That’s embarrassing, you’ll make fun of me._

 _I won’t,_ he assured her. And then he heard it, a faint tune. Her voice, humming along as she read the words to a song in the book that had materialized in front of them. It was a love song, about a Vapran girl—not a princess, but a noble. She’d fallen for a Sifan trader, but she knew her parents would never approve of the affair. They met on the shore under the cover of darkness every evening until one day, as the winds were changing, he told her that he had to leave. At first she was torn, but in the end, she finally cast aside her status and hopped aboard his ship to explore the Silver Sea with him, and no one from Ha’rar ever saw or heard from her again.

The romance was heavy and stirring, filled with the longing for freedom and affection. In the dream, he could feel her emotions as she read, and he began to feel more intrusive than he expected. The story mirrored her sister’s romance in a lot of ways, and in others, tragically diverged from it. Yet the longing he could feel…that belonged to Brea. Did all of the All-Maudra’s daughters feel this suffocated by their position?

The climax of the song was vivid. As the two lovers sailed into the setting suns, the Sifa stared deeply into the eyes of his precious silver jewel, the most valuable treasure he’d ever discovered. But just as the characters were about to kiss, a voice cut through the vision. _What in Aughra’s name…_

The two of them gasped as they let go immediately, ripping themselves from the dreamfast as they heard Tavra’s voice.

“We were just, uh—” Brea tried to make an excuse, knowing little about how Tavra’s new spider body affected this situation.

“I know what you were doing! I saw it!” she flicked her abdomen in discomfort.

“Saw what?” Onica looked between her girlfriend and their two startled compatriots on the floor.

“Ugh, I’ll never unsee it,” Tavra continued her lament. “I should have seen this coming when you both started reading those journals…”

“Oh!” Onica giggled. That had given her enough information to piece things together for herself. “So it was _that_ kind of dreamfast, eh? So soon?” She didn’t tease them too much before busying herself with meal preparation.

“But—” Brea still wasn’t up to speed. “How did…? Can—but we—” she stuttered as she looked around the tent.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of hers. _Arathim can see all gelfling dreamfasts, and now, so can your sister._

“Yes!” Tavra said aloud, “Whether I want to or not! So please, if you’re going to dreamfast with each other, could you at least limit the mushy stuff to when I’m not around? She’s still my little sister.”

That caught him by surprise. For whatever reason, he had assumed this scolding had been directed at her sister again. Now he realized it was for him. He supposed that made sense. He was older, and for as smart as she was, the young princess was still naïve. It _should_ be the expectation that he would conduct their interactions with the proper decorum. “Yes, of course. We didn’t realize you were back.”

The argument, if you could call it that, went no further. The two bookworms had been sufficiently embarrassed and kept quiet for much of the rest of the night. He stole small glances at the Silverling whenever he could. Occasionally when he would try to sneak a look at her, she would already be looking at him. They would both look away quickly, and he would do his best to resist the urge to look back at her when he could feel her eyes burning into the side of his face.

He imagined her back in the library, but he imagined what it would be like if he could be there, too. The both of them pouring over song after song in secret, behind the shelves in a dingy, rarely used corner of the massive library. He made a silent vow to himself that he would find a way to bring her back there someday, to see the place for himself.

After dinner, Brea laid out her bedroll. It was dry now, and warm from the fire. You could tell the girl hadn’t slept well in a while by the level of her excitement when she finally got the chance to lie down. She heaved a big sigh and smiled.

“Hey Kylan?” she asked quietly, as everyone else was also preparing to go to sleep. “Do you know any lullabies?” She pointed to the _firca_ around his neck.

He crinkled up his nose at her. “I suppose so. Do…you want me to play one?” No one had ever requested a lullaby before.

“Would you?” she asked. She was peeking at him through the half-lidded eyes of exhaustion.

He looked at Onica and Tavra, who shrugged in indifference. He shrugged back, then put the instrument to his lips. It took him a few moments of thought, but then he remembered a soft simple song from his childhood. It was a song his mother had hummed around the house, and one Maudra Mera would hum to him when he was frightened as a childling. It was a melancholy, meandering tune, only a minute or so long. When he was done, he looked to the girl. “How was that?”

But she didn’t answer. She was already fast asleep, snuggled into a ball beside the fire. She looked peaceful for the first time since he’d met her. He couldn’t help but smile to himself while he prepared his own bed. As he drifted off to sleep, the sound of her humming in the dreamspace returned to him, his very own lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO, so I definitely just realized that I subconsciously based Brea's favorite song on the first half of Alfie's song from Larkrise to Candleford. If you want a tune to hum when you think of Brea's favorite song, this is as good as any: https://youtu.be/T-SfqTwU9MY


End file.
